It only takes one moment to change your life forever.
It only takes one decision to alter the course of your future.
It only takes bravery to open your heart.
But once your heart is open...it's open to being shattered.
Lyra and her mom had little in...
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Lyra:
Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone I hear you call my name And it feels like home When you call my name it's like a little prayer I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there In the midnight hour I can feel your power Just like a prayer you know I'll take you there I hear your voice, it's like an angel sighing I have no choice, I hear your voice Feels like flying I close my eyes, oh God I think I'm falling Out of the sky, I close my eyes Heaven help me... When you call my name it's like a little prayer I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there In the midnight hour I can feel your power Just like a prayer you know I'll take you there Like a child you whisper softly to me You're in control just like a child Now I'm dancing It's like a dream, no end and no beginning You're here with me, it's like a dream Let the choir sing When you call my name it's like a little prayer I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there In the midnight hour I can feel your power Just like a prayer you know I'll take you there When you call my name it's like a little prayer I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there In the midnight hour I can feel a power Just like a prayer you know I'll take you there...
"What the fuck are you doing?"
I practically jump out of my skin when the large, strong hand rips my headphones off and grabs my shoulder, and shakes—hard. One minute I'm listening to a guilty pleasure—Madonna's 'Like a Prayer,' — the next I'm being manhandled. I look up and meet the apparently angry orbs of Trent. I jerk my shoulder out of his bear-like grasp and glare at him. "I said...what the fuck are you doing?" I notice then that his words come out slightly slurred and that his beautiful eyes are unnaturally shiny...glassy. Fuck a duck. He's drunk. "...What does it look like I'm doing," I snap. I'm angry, and getting angrier by the minute. For some reason seeing Trent this way after seeing him when we hung out lights an angry fire in the pit of my stomach. Trent cocks his head to one side and then waves his hand around. "The fuck if I know...you're swimming," he chuckles, "...I mean you're sitting in the dining room with..." he leans forward, squinting, "...a needle? What kinda girly shit is this anyway?" I bite down on my lower lip and am about to respond, when a gratingly high giggle fills the room. "Trentyyyyy...Trentyyyyyy boooooo where are youuuuuu..." Oh my God. Kill me now. I know my already pale complexion has gone ashen as the blood seems to drain from my face. Trent is drunk, and there is a girl with a hyena bray calling out for him. Even I can connect the dots. "Apparently you're being summoned," I say dryly. Trent blinks a few times, and then frowns. He rubs his face and opens his mouth as if he's about to speak, but before he can say a word hyena girl is there in all her glory...and when I mean all her glory, I mean all her glory. She's naked as a newborn baby...but definitely not built like one. "Trenty...there you are baby...where didya go? I got ready for you," Hyena girl purrs, right before she leans up and smacks a kiss on his cheek. I notice his jaw seems to be clenched and he hasn't said a word, but frankly at this moment I don't give a shit. I know the moment she realizes there is someone else in the room. I feel her stare...a tangible thing pressing upon me. "Who are you?" She says, a small frown on her face. "Trenty...I didn't know you had live-in staff. When did you hire an Oriental maid? And why is she nearly naked and out of her quarters?" I stiffen. A million shards of ice slide through my veins, and my chest gets inexplicably tight, as I begin to count...1...2...3...4...5...6...7. What is wrong with me? Why am I reduced to my coping mechanism. Hell, I faced off with the wicked bitch Becca...I could take this plastic surgeons template on in a millisecond and smile while doing so. And yet here I was...reduced to... God. No. Breathe Lyra, breathe. You are fine. You're surprised and maybe a little bit—okay a lot a bit, hurt, by the fact that Trent came home in the wee hours of the morning with a stupid as fuck bimbo. Okay, it took you aback, and caused you to start an 'episode,' but you're all right now. Look, you're talking to yourself...that means you are rational, haven't passed out, and can still function. Deep, calming breaths. In. Out. In. Out. "...I'm...sorry....." I say, straining to get the words out—they come out pained and breathy. "...I didn't get...the...memo that said..." I stop for a minute to try to take another deep breath, "...the dress code for tonight...was naked." I gesture toward her naked ass self before shrugging, "...this was...the best I...could do." I then gesture toward my own sleep shorts and cami clad self. I'm absurdly pleased to see the look of true confusion on her Botox filled face. Both hyena girl and I snap our heads in Trent's direction when he starts to laugh uncontrollably. In fact, he doubles over and slaps his thigh repeatedly, all the while tears are streaming down his face unheeded. "Shit...that's fucking great," he says between laughing pants, "I'm wasted as fuck and I get that she just insulted the fuck out of you." I sigh, heavily. Terrific. My drunk ass stepbrother gets my cutting insults. It was time to find better insults. Okay. Enough was enough. "Botox blonde said she got all ready for you, Trenty..." I drawl, pulling out his name. "I hate to keep you from your..." I can't help the grimace that fleetingly grips my face, "...late night cardio." "Trenty isn't going to the gym," hyena girl says, haughtily, "...he's taking me to bed and we're going to fuck all night long." She tosses me an icy glare. "He's the fucking best I've ever had, and he says that my cunt is the—" "—Shut the fuck up, Manda." Trent shouts, and hyena girl, oops, Manda gasps and sniffles ridiculously fake sniffles. "Get the fuck out of here." Manda blinks furiously. Her mouth opens and closes, and then opens and closes again. She looks like a puffer fish. "Are you fucking deaf as well as dumb. I said, get the fuck out of here," Trent bellows. "Do you want me to go and wait for you in your room?" Manda asks, and places her hand on his arm. Trent shakes her off and glares at her. "No, I mean, get out of my house." "But...but...my clothes...and...and..." Trent snorts and waves his hand. "Even you can't be so stupid you don't remember where you fucking stripped. Go get dressed...or," he glares at her, "...don't...frankly I don't give a flying fuck. Just get the fuck out of my house. You have five minutes, then I'm tossing you out dressed or not." Hyena girl, aka, Manda, lets out another gasp before running out of the room as fast as her fake floatation devices will let her. The minute hyena girl is gone, and I hear the sound of what I assume was the front door slamming shut, I turn to Trent. He's still standing in the same spot, and he's still staring at me with glassy eyes—although they do seem clearer than they were when he grabbed me and tossed my headphones to the side. My head is filled with so much static and white noise that it's hard to form a clear coherent thought. There is so much that I want to say to him...but I can't say any of it. My mouth literally will not form the words, and my voice literally will not obey me. I drop my eyes to my lap and begin to fiddle with the needle that I'm still holding. "I didn't think you'd be up," Trent says gruffly. Is that remorse I hear in his voice? I decide then it doesn't matter if it is. He's nothing to me, and I'm clearly less than nothing to him. The time spent together yesterday was probably charity on his part, let's take out the poor ethnic pseudo relation and play our do-gooder, card. I shrug and lift my eyes to meet his gaze again. I know that my face is blank and unreadable now. I have effectively put my mask in place. "Trent, seriously what, or who, you do is none of of my business, or honestly, my concern. I only spoke up because your girl was, frankly, she was rude, nasty and racist. Although the racism was probably just an unbelievable level of stupidity." I give him my millimeter smile—my very practiced, tight, smile—my interview smile. "Anyway, I apologize if my presence, or my words in anyway drove off your companion for the evening. I'm sure if you call her up and tell her it was all the Oriental maids fault, and that I fully apologize for my actions, she'll come back running." I turn my back on him and poke the needle through the fabric so hard I catch the pointer finger on my other hand, immediately drawing blood. Great. Just great. I guess I should just be thankful that the fabric is dark and won't show any possible blood stains. "Lyra...I..." "Goodnight Trent," I say, my voice is clipped and short. I hear a long, beleaguered sigh before Trent says quietly, "Goodnight, Lyra..." The moment he's gone I drop my sewing and let the tears fall.
